Girls, Girls, Girls
by zevie
Summary: What's a greaser to do when the most beautiful greasy girl in town offers him a haircut? A silly little oneshot. Rated for minor language, and minor sexual situations.


Girls, Girls, Girls

A/N: Hello, all. Just a silly little one-shot I thought I'd share for the heck of it. It's time to play: Guess That Greaser!

Disclaimer: I don't own "The Outsiders", nor can I lay claim to a particular configuration of words near the end of this one-shot. It's all on loan from dear S.E. Hinton.

xxx

It took me maybe ten seconds to get from the school to Lucky's. I could almost hear the bell still going.

I fuckin' hate school. Don't know why I go. Maybe just cause it feels like it's the "right thing a do". I don't care what Two-Bit says, it's a good reason. One a these days, I'll work out why, and really stick it to him. He'd get a laugh outta it if nothin' else.

Today was the worst day in awhile, and that's sayin' something. I reckon it was cause I finished my last pack a smokes about halfway through. 'Course, it mighta had something to do with the girls. Always talking and giggling and looking, they are. I been sixteen a goddamn month and it seems about that long that the reason for everything was girls. Not that I'd tell nobody that.

I bought some gum cause I felt bad about stealin' the smokes. Gum is a heck of a lot cheaper than smokes though. Can't figure out why – smokes make your breath smell bad, gum makes it smell good, and chicks dig… And smokes are bad for your health too.

I lit one on the way home, anyway.

There was a bunch of girls from school walking all huddled up together, maybe half a block in front of me. They were scrunched so close together, it didn't take me long to pass 'em, even walking as slow as I could. I recognized a bunch of 'em from class, and could tell they recognized me, but they didn't say nothin' and I was glad. I ain't much for sayin' nice things to girls.

I almost left 'em behind when one of them called out.

"Hey, greaser," she said. I flipped up my collar and took a drag off my smoke. I was supposed to look her in the eye – throws anyone off, I seen it done plenty of times. I couldn't though, cause she was pretty. The best I could do was stare at her eyebrow and that just seemed useless so I just looked away again.

"Hey, greaser," she said, again, but real casually, like we were makin' polite conversation. "You got an extra smoke?"

I looked at her really quick. She _was_ cute – but no Soc. I'd thought she was cause she sure wasn't no greasy girl. It's hard to tell them Socs from the middle class girls sometimes – they both look decent to me. Or, at least, it's hard to tell 'em apart until one talks to you.

I gave her a smoke and made to leave, but she grabbed my arm.

"What?" I said, more roughly than I meant. Her friends were whispering and they were looking pretty nervous.

She was looking real nervous too, but she swallowed and said bravely: "Got a light?"

I didn't say nothing for a minute, but they were all looking so scared it made me feel better. "Sure," I said, and smiled at her. It took me a minute to get it lit – she wasn't breathing in properly. I guessed she didn't smoke much and I wondered why she stopped me to ask for a cigarette. In the end I had to take it from her to light it myself.

"I'm Maxine," she said, I'll bet cause no one else was speaking.

"Sure," I said again. I got better manners usually, but I was concentrating on lighting that smoke and on not looking like an idiot in front of them girls.

"You're in my class," she said.

"Sure," I said, and gave her back the smoke. She held onto it for a minute, looking at me.

"Well, thanks," she said, finally. She didn't seem to want to go.

"Sure."

I hardly turned away before her friends started talking up a storm. "I can't _believe_ you!...That greaser's in my class, too…Ain't he _dangerous?_"

I grinned. Makes a guy feel pretty good, being called "dangerous". I wondered if I shoulda maybe asked her out. It made me nervous even to think of it though.

I passed by a couple a cops, and I was feeling so good I didn't even mind 'em looking at me. I glared at them and walked fast. Ain't no reason to be worried about the fuzz when you're _dangerous._

"Don't cause us any trouble, son," one of them said, sternly.

I heard a laugh from somewhere that made me jump

"Aww, you ain't no trouble maker are you?"

She's something to take your breath away, Sylvia is. She was leaning up against the beauty salon where she works, wearin' these pink pants and a pink and white checked shirt that was tied…well, up. She looked so good, I could hardly stand to look at her. 'Course, she got a reputation for being…not so nice. I couldn't just ignore her though.

"No, ma'am."

She let out this laugh like I'd just said the funniest thing in the world. "Aw, come on." She put a finger under my chin and quirked her eyebrow. "You ain't a scared of me?"

I pulled back quick. "No."

She laughed again, like she didn't believe me. "Well, then don't call me 'ma'am' it makes me feel old." She stared at me like she was trying to see right through me. "You sure could use a haircut, grease."

I glared at my shoes. "No, thanks."

"Oh, why not?" She tossed her hair impatiently and this wave of air passed over me that smelled really, really nice…

"You know, you ain't so bad lookin'. If only you had the right haircut the girls would be all over you," she said, slyly.

Hmm.

"Sure."

I was thinking about Maxine when I followed Sylvia into the shop and it wasn't until she picked up the soap that I realised that _she_ was gonna be doing the haircut. It was a girl's hair place, usually. I don't know too many guys who'd get their hair cut there, and I wouldn't have wanted to either. But, I forgot.

At least there wasn't no one in there, except for this older lady who works there. She snapped her gum and raised her eyebrows at me, but didn't say nothing and carried on reading her magazine.

Sylvia sat me down my this big tub and tipped me back so far, I thought I was gonna break my neck.

"What you doing?"

"Well, I've got to wash all this grease outta your hair first, before I cut it, don't I?" she said impatiently.

She took a lot longer to wash my hair than I would have. She scrubbed my hair real hard at first, banging my head against the sink a buncha times. It hurt, to tell the truth, cause of her nails, but I didn't say nothing. When she was done with the soap though, she just kept running her fingers through my hair and along my temples. It woulda felt nice, only, my hair was so heavy from being wet, and I wasn't sure how long I could stay in that position without cricking my neck.

"Um, Sylvia? How much longer – ?"

She didn't say anything for a while, just kept stroking my hair.

"Your hair's real soft," she said, her voice low and kinda breathy, like she'd been running. "It's really nice, you know. All long, and silky soft…"

She looked at me in the eye and kinda smiled. I guess she hadn't heard me over the water running, cause she didn't answer my question.

She turned off the water and walked away abruptly. She didn't tell me I could move up, so I just kinda sat there, my neck hurting. I couldn't see much besides the ceiling, cause my hair was too heavy for me to turn my head. I'd just decided to sit back up when she came back, holding a bottle.

"This makes your hair smooth and shiny," she announced, matter-of-factly. Then she winked. "Not that you'd need it, honey."

Honey?

She walked from one side to the other, trying to smooth the stuff into my hair. Even though she'd been washing my hair just fine before, she was having trouble reaching now. I couldn't figure out why.

"Tuh!" She said, stamping her foot. "I can't reach! I'll just have to-"

She swung one leg around my hips so she was straddling me, and leaned over my head that way.

It wasn't the smartest thing to do, and I didn't expect it, or I woulda gotten up. She was leaning close to me, and kinda reaching over so that my head was level with her, well, her chest. She didn't notice, I guess, cause she didn't move, but I could feel my ears getting warm. I closed my eyes, so I wouldn't end up looking at anything I shouldn't have been looking at.

After a couple minutes, she swung off me again.

"What do you have your eyes closed for?" she said, irritably. "This stuff don't sting."

She dragged me to hair cutting chair and plopped me down on it, smoothing my hair back.

She grinned at me in the mirror. "See how much better you'd look without all this hair in your face?"

It looked weird to me, but then, she was the beauty expert. I wondered if Maxine would like me with my hair back. She seemed to dig it okay the way it had been, but…maybe she had really just wanted the smoke.

Sylvia started snipping at the ends of my hair with these tiny scissors, looking up into the mirror at my face and smiling.

"Don't cut it too short," I said, cause I felt like I should say _something_.

She rolled her eyes. "I won't!" She giggled again and slapped my shoulder, and went back to snipping while I tried to work out whether she was mad or not. Rolling her eyes – she was mad. Giggling – she wasn't. Slapping me – she was?

"You're gonna look so good when I'm done." She smiled at me and lowered her voice. "Not that you ain't already a fox."

I felt myself go red. I knew she was only being nice to me, cause whatever I am, I ain't no fox.

She just giggled again and went back to work, snipping. "I was telling Donna the other day – you know, Donna, she's got short black hair, black eyes, kinda tallish…you know?"

I didn't, but I nodded.

"I was telling her the other day that you were gonna grow up to give Soda Curtis a run for his money."

Was she _kidding_ me?

She smiled, slyly, and her voice got all breathy again. "Guess, I was right, huh."

I was redder than a tomato by then. I tried to concentrate on the radio while she cut my hair and talked a bunch about how I was good-looking. I guessed they were wrong about her being mean – she seemed nice, if maybe a little blind. Wouldn't be the first time a rumour was wrong, though.

She finished cutting my hair and fluffed it with her fingertips, rubbing my head, my neck, my shoulders…

I squirmed a little and she stopped. It had sure taken longer than any other haircut I'd had before.

She gave me a wink and lifted my hair off the back of my neck, leaned down and blew against my skin.

I about hit the ceiling.

"What are you doing?"

She giggled again. "Just getting the hair off the back of your neck. _Silly._"

I don't care why she was blowing at me, it felt weird. I was glad when she picked up the comb and started draggin' it gently through my hair. I couldn't see why she was combing it again – she'd combed it already before cutting it, and anyway, she was dragging the comb so gently it wasn't doing nothing.

"You know, Tuesday nights are cheaper at the Nightly Double," she said, suddenly.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, and today's Tuesday." She smiled at me, looking kinda dreamy. "I used to go all the time, but now…" She sighed. "Well, Dally being in jail and all…I guess I won't be going," she finished mournfully. "I'd really, really like to, though." She looked at me and wet her lips. "I'd do _anything_ to go."

I swallowed. "Well, then you should go, shouldn't you?"

She lost the dreamy look straightaway, and made the "tuh!" noise again. "By myself?"

I couldn't think of anything to say to that, so I just stared at my hands while she combed my hair again.

"Dally'll be out soon," I said, hopefully, after awhile.

"Tuh!" she said, and glared at me in the mirror. "I don't care, do I?" She loosened her grip on the comb so it caught in my hair, slid down my front and landed in my crotch.

Ow.

"Oops," she giggled, and before I knew it her hand was slipping down my front slowly along the same path. Well, I didn't think she realised where the comb had landed so I about threw her off grabbing for it first.

"Here you go," I said, kinda outta breath.

She made this impatient little noise again, and, staring at me in the mirror, dropped the comb again in the same place. _On purpose._

I didn't know what to do, so I just let her lean over me and tried to scrunch back in the chair as she inched down my front.

"Maybe I don't want Dally to hurry back," she whispered in my ear and then pressed her lips against my neck.

It hit me like a ton of bricks what she _did_ want, then. I knew I should stop her. This was _Dally's_ girl. He'd tear me a new one. He was my buddy. It wasn't right.

But…

She kissed my neck again.

I wasn't gonna do anything, really. She was just getting her comb back.

She went a little lower.

It's not like I was gonna take her out or anything. I let my hips slip a little so the comb was propped up. It's be easier for her to grab it, anyway.

She giggled. "Maybe you _are_ a trouble maker, huh?" She slipped lower.

Dally'd never know, anyway. Maybe he wouldn't care…

"_Johnny?!_"

She jumped. I jumped. Two-Bit was leaning through the doorway, looking more surprised than I'd ever seen him. Steve was just behind, frowning with his eyes narrowed. I got outta the chair real fast.

"Hey, Two-Bit. Steve," I said. "Thanks for the haircut, Sylvia."

She glared at me and Steve glared at her. Two-Bit was still looking at me in amazement.

"What," I said, and slouched down into my jacket. Two-Bit looked between me and Sylvia and his face went from shocked to amused to mad in about five seconds.

"What the hell are you doing?" he demanded.

I could feel myself going red. "It wasn't nothing…"

"Takin' advantage…Dally's dating you, Sylvia!" Steve said, outraged.

"I wasn't taking advantage-" I started miserably, but he wasn't yellin' at me.

"Listen, you little two-timing slut," he snarled, and Two-Bit had to grab his arm. "You try any of your tricks on Johnny again and I'll personally beat the tar outta you. You may have hooked Dallas, but you ain't corrupting no one else."

He turned and almost pushed me outta the store. I was so surprised I couldn't a stopped it if I'd wanted, though Sylvia looked mighty angry with me for leaving.

"Listen, Johnny," he snapped, and I couldn't help cringing. "You keep clear of girls like her. A sneaking little broad like Sylvia'll get you in a world of trouble, and I don't just mean the beatin' you'd take when Dally'd find out."

"Yeah, she's trouble, alright," Two-Bit said, seriously.

Steve nodded and glared at me again. "I catch you hanging around with her again, well – you don't wanna be in that position, Johnnycake."

Steve stalked ahead, carrying on with his rant, but Two-Bit pulled me back a second and leaned forward to whisper in my ear:

"She may be trash, but, Johnny, man – _nice going._"

xxx

A/N: Aha…didja guess right?


End file.
